


Evil's Soft First Touches

by MimikoFlamemaker



Series: Of Monsters and Men [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Friendships, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-06 05:56:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17339813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimikoFlamemaker/pseuds/MimikoFlamemaker
Summary: The journey of Neve and Geralt continues. Travelling through Temeria and off the beaten paths each of them has a chance to learn something new. And meet some friends, both old and new.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Miłe Złego Początki](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17339738) by [MimikoFlamemaker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimikoFlamemaker/pseuds/MimikoFlamemaker). 



I

The sorceress was not in Vizima. They were staying in the city for over a week now and Yennefer still didn’t show up. The town was overflowing with nilfgaardian troops though, and there was a new banner, portraying the Great Sun, flying proudly over the castle. All of this had one distinct advantage – almost nobody tried to cause her trouble, fearing the reaction of the guards, patrolling the city with impressive regularity.

Neve however, was starting to worry. Mohar was probably already tracking her down and those two weeks they spent hiding in the wilderness might not be enough, considering the kind of man he was. She knew that it was only a matter of time, before the mercenary will reach Vizima.

She needed to head out as soon as possible. Luckily for her, Geralt was also clearly tired of waiting. So much in fact, that he went out and found himself a contract, absolutely oblivious to the fact that any unnecessary strain to his freshly healed shoulder might end up with a much more serious injury than the one she had stitched twice.

Neve decided that it was not her place to get worried. She had no idea what kind of monster a zeugl was and as soon as Geralt mentioned something about the city dumpster, she decided that she prefers to stay blissfully unaware. But she wasn’t planning on staying at the inn and waiting until the witcher will return from the hunt. A busy evening was in order.

She fixed her hair, making sure that the loose up-do hides her ears well and climbed the few steps leading to the “Golden Pheasant”, which was likely the most ostentatious place in the whole city.

The burgundy jacket she wore was richly embellished with a golden thread and stiff as all hell. It pinched whenever she moved and was tied tightly enough to make her wonder if it’s going to bust her ribs if she moves a little too fast. Gathering information required some certain… commitments most often than not, but she really hoped that the whole affair will pay off in the end and that she won’t be thrown out five minutes later.

At least the delicious smell of something roasting lifted her spirits a little bit.

The common room wasn’t as stuffed as in other places where merchants and business owners usually dined, but there was enough people milling about, that her appearance didn’t seem off. She walked between the tables for a bit, sipping at the glass of wine and listened to people talking.

There were so many nilfgaardian officers inside that for a moment she almost forgot that Vizima was a capital of Temeria not so long ago. She wondered what would they do, if they knew that she understood their every word. She would likely ended back outside even faster. And with a knife between her ribs.

She kept to the sides, from time to time answering the calls and smiles coming her way with a playful curl of her lips. And she finally spotted her target.

The man she observed filled the side of the square table he sat at almost completely. Various dishes and cups littered the table’s surface, but he didn’t appear to be bothered in the slightest. He laughed loudly, yelling orders at the staff. One of the serving girls squealed, when he grabbed her by the hips and tried to pull her onto his lap.

Neve grimaced and rolled her eyes. Then she gestured for another waitress.

‘Yes, my lady?’ the girls asked and curtsied, waiting to hear what she wanted.

She reached for her coin purse, pulling out a handful of crowns. She could see when the girl’s eyes went wide in surprise.

‘A pitcher of your best Toussaint wine. Bring it to the lord Castellan and don’t forget to say that it’s a gift from me’ she instructed. ‘If any change remains, you may keep it.’

The serving girl smiled brightly, bowed to her again and rushed to do her bidding. Neve stood, proped against one of the pillars and watched as the girl returned, putting the pitcher in front of the man. She then whispered something into his ear and pointed her with the slight shift of her head.

Neve beamed and nodded when he turned to look at her.

A moments later he smiled as well and gestured for her to approach.

‘My lord’ she stood in front of him and bowed. She could feel how his eyes were raving over her. As if he couldn’t make what he thought any more obvious.

‘Women from around here aren’t so brave’ he said, gesturing for her to sit down.

‘It is a good thing then, that I am not from around here’ she sat down on the proffered chair, resting her forearms on the table.

‘Really?’ he poured himself some wine and bowed over the table to fill a cup for her. ‘And where are you form miss? And what brings you to Vizima, if you don’t mind me asking?’

Neve straightened, taking a sip of wine. It was indeed delicious. At least the serving girl didn’t screw her over.

‘Let me just say, that I am not offering you an expensive wine from Toussaint without a reason, my lord’ she replied. ‘And I came here for the exact same reasons that bring most people to the city. Business. And the new options, caused by the most recent…’ she lowered her voice to a whisper and nodded towards the group of nilfgaardians sitting at the nearby table. ‘Changes.’

‘Business you say?’ the castellan muttered. He could at least pretend that he was interested in something else than the full cup of wine and her overly exposed cleavage. Neve still gave him a kittenish smile.

‘It’s unbecoming to speak about that sort of things with a stranger’ he extended his fat hand towards her. ‘Tybald, the castellan of Vizima.’

Neve returned the solid handshake.

‘Colette’ she introduced herself and smiled again. ‘I am currently searching for a new ways to export some goods. I suppose that you enjoy the wine I chose, correct?’

‘Of course. It’s delightful. You had a great taste, miss’ he held out his cup, when she offered him more wine.

‘Well that’s another thing I am getting paid for’ she said, watching as Tybald drowned half of the cup in one gulp. ‘And it’s just Colette.’

‘Colette. A very pretty name’ he took another large gulp of wine. At this rate he soon will be too drunk to even remember this conversation. Even better for her. ‘So you are importing wines?’

‘No, but I am working for someone who is really interested in doing that. I am checking the market so to speak. There are several brands of wine that are very highly regarded in Toussaint, but they never became wildly popular. We are looking to change that. Because, in my opinion, they are even better than the one we are drinking now’ she took another sip and refilled the castellan’s cup. ‘But before the people I work for decide to roll the first barrels onto the wagons, they want to know a bit about the city and its inner workings. I came to the conclusion, that no one will tell me more about that than you, my lord’ she added, shifting in her seat so that her batiste blouse tightened over her already exposed breasts.

Tybald nodded vigorously, causing all three of his chins to jiggle and drank from his cup again.

‘Not only beautiful, but also smart’ a wide smile bloomed on his face. ‘Ask me about whatever you want. If for some reason I won’t know the answer then I certainly know someone who will be able to help you’ he knocked back the remaining contents of his cup in one gulp.

‘You are far too gracious, my lord… May I offer you more wine?’

If only more things could be achieved with a few ingratiating words and false smiles.

The castellan staggered and blinked rapidly. For a moment, he looked ready to collapse under the table. The chair he sat on creaked loudly. Most people would choose this moment to stand up and leave, salvaging the remains of their dignity.

‘Well…Whatever!’ he belched and grinned at her. ‘Pour me another! There is no point in finishing such a pleasant conversation…’

Neve gave him another coy smile and reached for the pitcher.

‘With pleasure. To be honest I am pretty interested in…’


	2. Chapter 2

II

Outside the night turned slowly into a wet, grey dawn, When Neve’s attention was caught by a barely audible creak of a floorboard, followed by a whispered curse. Usually, she heard all other guests way earlier, when they barely started to climb the stairs, even though the room they rented was on the far end of the hall.

She turned away from the window when the door opened quietly.

‘You could have told me that you will be back late…’ she trailed off and almost choked when her senses were assaulted by a wave of a terrible stench. ‘By the gods… What is this stink?’ she tried to cover her nose with her sleeve, but it was already too late.

Obviously, the part about the dumpster wasn’t only a poor joke.

In the faint light, thrown about the room by a lamp standing on the same, rickety table she currently sat on, Geralt appeared to be tired and a little bit uncomfortable with the scrutiny.

‘I’ve been in the baths for the last two hours…’ he muttered, pulling his swords off his back. ‘And then I changed…’

For a moment, Neve regretted the words that just left her mouth. Almost.

‘You weren’t thorough enough, apparently’ she slid off the table, sniffed and grimaced even further, looking the witcher over carefully. ‘What about the shoes? You had a single pair, if I am not mistaken…’

‘And I carefully cleaned them…’

‘Not really, as we can see’ she shook her head and approached him. ‘Hand them over’ she ordered, pointing at his feet.

‘You can’t be serious…’

‘Dead serious. Come on, before I will have to ask the staff for a new room.’

Neve grabbed the shoes and, holding them in her outstretched hand, approached the window and unlatched the shutters. Before Geralt could even open his mouth to protest, she threw them outside. The clatter was rewarded with a piercing shriek of a scared cat.

‘Oh please, don’t give me that look’ she said, resting her hands against her hips. ‘I’ll buy you a new ones in the morning.’

‘And how are you going to do that?’ the witcher asked, stretching on the narrow bed. The frame creaked terribly.

‘I have a good eye for such things’ she replied. ‘I got you the right jacket on the first try, didn’t I? How are you feeling by the way?’ she asked, standing over him. ‘How’s your shoulder?’

‘Better than you probably think…’

‘Really?’ she smiled slightly. ‘Then show me. Someone should look you over anyway…’

‘I’m fine’ Geralt assured, but sat up and pulled off his shirt anyway. He quickly learned how much his companion knew about healing.  
The pallet dipped lightly, when she kneeled behind him.

‘Would you feel anything after the potions you drank before the fight?’ she asked. He could feel her warm touch on his shoulder. It was only then that he realized how cold he actually felt.

‘Thought so’ she muttered when he didn’t reply. She bent over his shoulder, running her fingers over the four fresh scars etched there. ‘So, a monster hunting in the trash pile… Does that happen often?’ she asked as her eyes slid lower, searching for other injuries and scratched. This close, she could only smell the intensive, slightly bitter scent of soap.

‘More often than you probably think’ the witcher responded. ‘There are plenty of monsters which decided that hunting in the cities is much easier… Don’t you need any more light?’ he glanced at her over his shoulder when her fingers slid down his spine.

‘I admit, I don’t see in the darkness as well as you do, but right now, it’s enough’ her warm breath tickled his skin. ‘Besides, I saw your eyes… How much longer they will be like that?’

Her voice didn’t carry even a hint of a sick curiosity, he was so well accustomed to receive from people who even bothered with asking some question. They were mostly sorcerers, seeing him as nothing else that a test subject to be prodded in every way imaginable. Neve seemed to be honestly concerned for him. A thing he didn’t really know what to think off, seeing how well she was able to pretend.

‘Two hours at most…’

‘Then I will sit here in a half-dark for a bit longer’ she said and he could picture the way she shrugged. ‘Because I correctly assume that another lamp would be too bright for you?’

He smiled slightly, but didn’t say that he couldn’t even look at the small flame directly without flinching.

‘Geralt, I am trying to talk with you…’

‘I am sorry’ he glanced at the woman again. She was now carefully checking his right arm. There was a moment when her black hair obscured her face, making the whole scene painfully familiar. Then she reached and pushed the strands behind her pointed ear, and the impression was gone. ‘Should I tell you about the hunt?’

‘So also about the way you trudged through the dumpster, waist deep in the sort of crap I am not comfortable to even think about?’ she came to sit in front of him, her eyes running over his naked chest.

If it wasn’t for the fact that her expression reminded him about Nenneke so much, he wouldn’t feel particularly comfortable right now.

‘More or less… But it wasn’t that bad if you must know. If it was, you would likely threw away my trousers too…’

‘I am not going to deny that… Speaking of which; where is the rest of the clothes you have hunted in?’

‘At the laundress…’

‘Poor woman…’ Neve smirked. ‘Anyway, I trust that the hunt was successful?’

‘Of course. I tracked and killed both zeugls… In three weeks or so, someone will have to search the dumpster with the dogs, to make sure that there are no younglings there.’

‘And you aren’t planning on doing that?’

‘This is not what I am getting paid for’ the witcher smiled. ‘I’ll take the money for the monster and we are leaving. We won’t find Yennefer if we will just sit here and wait for her to appear.’

Neve made sure to not show how much those words actually pleased her.

‘You are going to request a higher rate for two monsters, aren’t you?’

Geralt sighed.

‘Neve I already told you… People aren’t exactly jumping with joy when they have to pay the witchers for anything. And they hate bantering with us even more.’

‘I could always go there with you…’

‘And make me lose whatever respect the castellan still holds for me?... I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…’

‘No you are actually right. A woman bantering in a withcher’s name? And a mutt no less?’

‘Neve…’

‘Don’t make that face Geralt. I heard those words way too often to get offended by them anymore. It doesn’t change the fact that you should demand more, though. You risk death, or worse, a permanent injury, only to allow people like castellan Tybald to grow their fat in peace…’

‘I’ll try’ he agreed. ‘Maybe he will be more willing to cooperate now that he spends nilfgaardian money…’ Geralt glanced at her suspiciously. ‘How come you know anything about his… corpulence?’

Neve grinned, her teeth flashing in the dim light.

‘You really thought that I will be sitting here all day, waiting for you to come back? I decided to find myself something to do…’

‘And we are not going to get arrested now, are we?’

‘Please’ she groaned, feigning offence. ‘From the two of us, I am the one who knows how to avoid attracting too much attention. However, because our search so far didn’t bring any tangible results, I decided to reach a bit higher. To the people that might actually know something, as opposed to the innkeepers we interrogated so far…’

‘And you asked the emperor himself for an audience?’

Neve’s eyes narrowed briefly.

‘Fine, let’s say I deserve that for the shoes. But you also know that you wouldn’t be able to get the stink out… Back to the topic at hand; no. His imperial highness knows nothing about my existence and I would love to keep it that way. Besides, it’s way out of my league… But I figured that visiting the fanciest inn in this city and listening to people’s talking couldn’t hurt our cause’ she finally moved away from him, content that she hadn’t found anything of concern, and sat at the foot of the bed with her legs crossed.

Geralt looked her over carefully, only now noticing that she was wearing a completely different set of clothes.

She returned the stare, completely unbothered by the fact that his pupils were so wide they obscured his irises.

‘Is this batiste?’

‘It’s nice to see that I talk with an expert’ she smiled, pinching the sheer fabric of her sleeve with two fingers. ‘I couldn’t look any less than the rest of them or they wouldn’t tell me a thing. The jacket and the accessories I managed to rent, but I had to pay for the blouse.

‘So you do know how to banter, after all.’

‘Of course I do. If I hadn’t no one would take me seriously. And to be perfectly honest, the tailor was an elf, so I pulled the racial solidarity card and it paid off.’

‘And what did you find out?’

‘I paid for it with several false praises and a pitcher of a very expensive wine, but in the end, our castellan Tybald proved to be a true well of knowledge…’

‘Neve, you are toying with me…’

‘Me?’ she smiled innocently. ‘I could never… But I did find out that your sorceress is now a loyal subject to the emperor…’

Geralt clearly didn’t believe her.

‘Not possible. Yennefer would never…’

‘You have no idea, how far people are willing to go, when their life is at stake’ she interrupted, knowing this particular subject a little too well. ‘From what I know, the sorcerers can either enter the service of Nilfgaard now or wait until someone will sell them out and send them straight to the stake.’

‘There is still Kovir… They don’t hunt the witches over there…’

‘And you didn’t thought that she might have something to do here? Something that justifies serving the emperor?’

‘There are not many things Yennefer would sacrifice her independence for.’

He looked away from her, making it abundantly clear that it was one of those things she wasn’t supposed to know about. Still, she was tempted to ask, the question laying at the tip of her tongue.

She didn’t.

‘Whatever that is, I know for a fact, that your sorceress spends plenty of time at court recently. But, she is not there right now. We missed her by two days. She came to the city to make a report, probably something about what sort of a prick count Visse is and left, heading for Maribor… Looks like we have to head south as well’ Neve sighed and unfolded herself from the bed, before she stretched. ‘Don’t know about you, but I could use a bit of a nap’ she looked at the window, pulling her blouse from the trousers. ‘And you are not going to go anywhere barefoot.’

‘I need to be in castellan’s office in the morning…’

‘And you will be, stop complaining’ she stretched in her bed, then curled under the thin blanket. ‘Besides, he will have a mother of all hangovers to handle in the morning. And don’t try to tell me that you wouldn’t want to get some sleep as well.’

To be honest, he was exhausted. His bed creaked loudly when he fell backward onto it. Almost in the afterthought, he raised his hand and put the light out with a snap of his fingers.

He heard when Neve snorted into the pillow, suppressing a laugh.


	3. Chapter 3

III

The lake shimmered in front of her, barely wrinkling under the gentle wind. Neve crossed the line of the tall reeds, leaving the forest behind and coming to the narrow stretch of sand at the water’s edge. At least the weather was good, making the long hours in the saddle somehow more tolerable.

Yennefer wasn’t in Maribor. There was no sign of her presence there either. Nothing except the rumors about a black-haired woman asking after the remains of the library, the Conclave of Mages kept in the city. But the Conclave no longer existed and the only reminder of the library was a beautiful building, now housing a new city hall. The books and scrolls were either, salvaged and taken away by the sorcerers fleeing from Nilfgaard, or they were sorted, packed and sent off into the Empire, once the army was done with sacking the city.

They only stayed the night in the city, before continuing their journey south. Geralt didn’t found any information about any contract and, as he clearly stated, he preferred to look for a job in a less populated areas.

Well, in those villages in the dead end of nowhere, people at least feared him enough to hide their contempt a little better. Neve was quickly coming to the conclusion, that being an elf-human hybrid wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to her, after all.

She shook her head, slid her pants down her legs and placed them on the rotten log against which she previously rested her sword. The relationship between the witcher and the sorceress was intriguing from the very beginning, but she knew when not to ask some certain questions. She didn’t expect however, that Geralt will stay so adamantly quiet about the whole thing. But she had no doubt, that everything will become clear once they will find Yennefer.

She pulled off her shirt and then the strip of cloth she used to bind her breasts. The lingerie worn by both noblewomen and sorceresses was pretty. Really pretty. But it also tended to be stiff and couldn’t be worn underneath the chainmail and armor.

Neve brushed her hair with her fingers, approaching the edge of the lake. The water was still far from feeling comfortable. It didn’t mean however, that she was going to be sweating in the saddle for days on end, waiting until they will come across the town with a decent inn. She took one more, deep breath and just threw herself into the water.

She swam for a while, surprised by how clear the lake was. Travelling off the trodden roads had some certain advantages. The water was still cold however and as soon as she stepped out of it, the wind only made the sensation worse.

She was certainly going to bathe in a hot water next time. Even if she will have to pay someone to use their laundry tub.

Neve wrapped her hair around her wrist, squeezing the water out and then reached for a fresh change of clothes. She was lacing up her trousers, when the water behind her back splashed loudly. Instead of looking over her shoulder, as everyone would do, Neve trusted her instinct, putting the hairs at the back of her neck up. She jumped over the log, taking her sword with her.

Seconds later, the wood was smashed by a swipe of a long claws. She twisted on the spot and faced her attacker.

To think that the day had started so well.

The creature that climbed from the water after her, looked a bit like a body dragged out from the river. And stank just like one. But the eyes that looked her were large and pale, the eyes of a fish. Its blue skin was covered in a tiny, shimmering scales. She raised her sword a little higher, making the monster focus on it. When its eyes were busy following the movement, Neve jumped backward, rolling over the wet sand, searching for a solid ground and a more open space.

The monster screeched and jumped after her, shocking her with its speed. Neve pulled herself off the ground, evaded another attack before shortening her stride and throwing a wide, flat cut, trying to discourage the creature from attacking her.

Her only accomplishment was a deafening scream, when her sword tore through the skin on its arm. But she wasn’t going to give up. Killing a monster could hardly be any different than slaughtering people. And she was never someone who sits around and waits for others to come to her rescue.

She jumped away again, ducking under the arms reaching for her and spun, cutting the creature across the back. It roared, curled on the spot, quick as a striking snake, but its claws caught only air again. Neve didn’t wait until it gathers itself for another attack and struck, hard, from a deep twist of her hips. Her blade was sharp enough to cut through skin, muscle and bone.

The arm, severed almost at the elbow, rolled over the sand. Neve though that the wounded monster would flee back to the lake, so when it attacked instead, she barely had the time to escape from the claws. The creature did not carry a sword she could use as a bouncing point, so the evaded it again, getting even more sand into her hair. As soon as she stood up, she used the fact that her opponent wasn’t facing her yet and prepared the last strike.

The monster was turning, but it hardly changed anything. A clean cut and its head flew up, before rolling into the reeds. The body fell, now limp, onto the beach. For a few heartbeats she just stood there, watching the blood dripping off her blade.

She only heard her own breath.

‘Interesting style’ a familiar voice commented, causing her to whip towards the sound.

Geralt stood a couple of steps behind her, wearing nothing but his shirt and trousers. In the lowered hand he held one of his swords.

‘I’m happy that you enjoyed the show’ she grumbled distraught and not wishing to show it. ‘And that you preferred to stay there and watch instead of doing something’ she returned to the pile of her belongings and reached for the piece of cloth to clean her blade.

‘I preferred to watch, because you were handling the fight very well’ the witcher answered calmly. ‘Believe me, I would have stepped in, if I thought for a moment that you are in danger.’

Neve hesitated briefly, but in the end the frown on her face only deepened.

‘Now, you are jesting…’

Geralt glanced at her sword, but smiled.

‘I wouldn’t dare’ he raised his hands in a placating gesture. ‘Good footwork. What you lack in strength you compensate well enough with speed and dexterity. And you move in a way that makes it difficult to guess what your next move would be… Should I continue?’

‘Go on, go on… Which woman don’t enjoy when she is showered in compliments?’ she grabbed a clean shirt and turned away, to keep things modest, even though Geralt already seen almost everything there was to see.

Her only answer was silence.

‘What happened? Cat got your tongue?’ she asked, glancing at him over her shoulder. His expression was difficult to interpret. She sighed, when she followed his line of sight. ‘I thought that scars don’t bother you anymore.’

The witcher flinched, looking to the ground. Neve shook her head, pushing her shirt into the trousers.

‘Don’t make that face Geralt… it looks ridiculous on you. And if you want to know something, just ask. The worse thing that can happen is me telling you to fuck off’ she added, reaching for her shoes.

‘I just didn’t expect…’

‘It was a lesson. Exactly the same as the ones written all over your skin.’

‘Neve, those are marks left after flogging…’

‘Well, I didn’t learn the art of life on the witcher’s path. And I met a different sort of monsters… Speaking of which; can you tell me what that was? – she gestured towards the body, laying in the sand.

He looked at her, clearly surprised.

‘You haven’t seen a drowner before?’

‘Nope and I haven’t killed one either… They are often hunting their prey from the reeds?’

‘Very. But I would like to move the lesson on their habits back to the camp.’

‘Why?’

‘Because they rarely hunt alone and neither of us is equipped to fight the whole group of them. Come’ he nodded toward the woods behind his back. ‘And next time, please wake me up before you leave.’

‘Don’t tell me, that you were worried?’ she asked, resting her sword on her shoulder.

‘Of course I was. I was woken be the shrieks of a drowner, you were nowhere in sight and I had no idea where you went… I thought I won’t be able to find you on time.’

Neve always liked to have a last word in every conversation.

This time however, she had none.


	4. Chapter 4

IV

She was woken up by a bitter chill in the air and the scent of smoke wafting form a barely blinking fire. Her first thought was to turn to the side and bury herself deeper into her bedroll, refusing to be woken up earlier than necessary.

Then she realized that the witcher was not there. Neve cursed and sat up, curling her arms around herself to try and chase away the cold.

‘Geralt?’

Her only response was snorting of the horses. If that was a payback for the drowner, there was nothing funny about it. She reached for a wood lying nearby, throwing a few pieces onto the flames and then grabbed the rest of her clothes. She debated whether it was better to go after him or remain at the camp, pretending that nothing had happened.

By the time she finished dressing and chewed on the few pieces of dried beef, she knew that it was her turn to play the tracker. She threw the quiver over her shoulder, wrapped her sword belt around her hips and plunged into the forest.

Frozen, stiff leaves creaked beneath her feet. A puff of steam lifted from her mouth with every breath. This time of the year, ground frosts were nothing unusual, but Neve hoped that they won’t bring another snowfall with them. For years now, she spent each winter in the warm inn or a cozy mansion, tucked behind the solid city walls and not on the road, huddled over the barely warm fire. And she had no doubt, which option she preferred.

It was nice to see however, that witchers left the trail fairly easy to follow. She picked it up just outside the camp and had no troubles with keeping it. After several minutes of a silent march, her ears picked the snapping of breaking branches and the distinct sound of a sword cutting through the air. Neve crouched a little and sneaked forward, listening intently.

First thing she saw, was his white hair. Geralt blinked between the trees, dressed for the road, his sword poised for the strike. He didn’t make a single unnecessary sound.

Neve smiled to herself. It was always a pleasure to see a talented swordsman in action, and all tales agreed that the witchers were one of the best.

She was now ready to agree with them.

‘You are staring again.’

She snorted.

‘You aren’t even looking at me…’

‘I don’t have to’ the witcher froze for a moment, motionless, before turning to face her. ‘See? I was right.’

Neve grinned, folding her arms across her chest and propping herself against the nearby tree.

‘I see nothing wrong with watching. Especially if there is a lot to admire. Do you do that often? Slipping away in the wee hours of the morning to practice?’

‘Everyone needs to train’ Geralt shrugged. ‘But I didn’t think, that I would wake you up.’

‘It wasn’t you, just this damn cold… Your shoulder doesn’t give you troubles?’

‘Why would you…’ the witcher saw the way his companion was looking at him and sighed, giving up. ‘I need a lot of practice to keep the scars from stiffening. Your words not mine. And monsters don’t wait behind every tree.’

‘And you find just hitting the air sufficient?’ Neve rested her bow and quiver against the tree, then took a few steps towards him. ‘If you had only asked I would have gladly kept you company.’

‘I don’t think this would be a good idea…’

‘And why is that?’ her mouth pulled into a frown. ‘You mean to tell me that you only told me those nice things to make me feel better about the drowner?’

‘Not at all. I really think that you have both, the talent and the skills. But I am a witcher…’

‘Interesting…’ she put her hand on her hips. ‘Because you say it, like you were trying to warn someone that you are a leper. We are what we are Geralt. And I see no reason for shame in that.’

‘That would make you a first…’

‘Which doesn’t mean that I am not right… Are we doing it then?’ she moved her hand to the hilt of her sword and waited.

‘I wouldn’t want to hurt you…’

‘If you do, the blame is all on me… I am doing this long enough to at least know, when to duck.’

The witcher sighed, but in the end he nodded his assent.

‘Great!’ she unwound a thin, leather cord from her wrist and pulled her hair into a ponytail. ‘I was starting to freeze over here again…

She walked around the witcher, her strides slow and graceful. Geralt turned on the spot, watching her.

‘You do realize that you need a sword to fight, don’t you?’ he asked seeing that her blade remained sheathed.

Instead of answering, Neve jumped from the spot, pulling out her sword at the same time. Geralt raised his own, ready to block the strike, but there was none. She dived under his lifted shoulder, sliding across the wet leaves, getting ready to cut him across the back.

The blades met with a clang. Neve whirred away, her sword spinning and instantly jumped into the next attack. Geralt caught the sword with his own and tried to push her away, but she didn’t allow him to throw her off balance. She spun right next to him instead, tearing her blade free and striking, aiming for the hip.

Geralt jumped away, looking at her with the newfound appreciation. She felt her lips forming a smile.

‘Who taught you to fight like that?’

‘I didn’t have a real teacher, if that’s what you are asking’ when the witcher advanced, she took a step to the side, once again walking in a circle. ‘Back in the commando, the kids are all taught how to handle weapons, before we even learnt how to run. And this is why we have something to eat every night…’

She jumped at the same moment Geralt did. Their swords struck one another once, then twice and then they were already spinning in different directions, seeking distance.

‘Later it wasn’t easy all the time’ Neve continued. ‘I trained with the mercenaries I worked with. Watched the swordsmen I met during my travels. All in all, practice is a great teacher, especially if you are desperate to survive’ suddenly, she changed the rhythm of her stride, jumping at him. Geralt wanted to block her, but once again found nothing but air, as she boldly slipped between his sword and his chest. He felt her breath against his face and tore himself away, rolling across the fallen leaves.

Neve’s sword cut the air with a wheeze.

‘I think I learned the most from Alven. He showed me how to best use the tricks I picked over the years to my advantage…’

Geralt was back on his feet, but didn’t approach her again, keeping his distance and watching her closely.

‘He must have been an excellent swordsman…’

‘The best I knew’ she nodded. ‘And he had plenty of time to teach me… We’ve known each other for twenty years. And it was one of the main reasons why I ended up in Mohar’s company. Alven told him that he can either take both of us, or go to hell. I think it took him about a year to realize what a great deal he had made… hey!’ the witcher’s attack almost surprised her this time. She only had the time to duck, allowing the sword to pass over her head. Instead of striking with her sword again, she placed her arms firmly on the ground and kicked out, trying to swipe his legs from under him. Geralt jumped over the obstacle easily.

‘I don’t think this follows ant from the many rules of fencing’ the witcher muttered, smiling.

‘What rules?’ Neve pushed herself off the ground and advanced. ‘Everything is a fair game. As long as it helps you win.’

‘I know a witcher who says the exact same thing…’

‘And you think that we would become fast friends, if we happened to meet?’ she evaded his strike gracefully, but Geralt has no issues with parrying her answering blow.

‘Not really. I don’t think anyone in his life had genuinely liked him.’

Neve laughed, breaking his charge and trying to place herself at his back again, using the fact that he appeared to be a little less focused. He saw through her plan though and her sword once again only found his.

The fact that he could read through her moves so easily was becoming a bit much. She wasn’t sure though, if winning a simple duel was worth reaching for her more complicated tricks.

She finally decided that it was worth a try. When they fall apart after another block, instead of dancing away, she fell to her knees, spun, and suddenly she was right behind him. Reaching for a dagger hanging at her belt with her free hand.

Geralt was quick to react, but instead of trying to reach her with a sword, he threw his other hand forward, his fingers curling into some sort of a symbol.

Neve felt her feet leaving the ground, pushed by a blow of something she couldn’t even see. She didn’t even have the time to scream, before the spell enveloped her, throwing her backward with surprising strength.  
At least she didn’t smash against some stray tree.

‘Fuck!’ Geralt cursed, putting his sword away and running to her side. – I’m sorry Neve! Are you alright?’

She grabbed his outstretched hand, but instead of getting up, she kicked him in the ankle and pulled. The witcher twisted as he fell, landing heavily beside her.

‘Are you always like that?’ he groaned, turning onto his back.

Neve really wanted to remain serious, but the laugh tore its way from her throat anyway.

‘I would just be careful with that trust witcher’ she sat up, shaking the leaves from her hair. ‘And I just couldn’t help myself, all honest’ she glanced at him with a broad smile on her lips. ‘What was that?’

‘One of our signs’ Geralt explained, sitting up. ‘Aard. A type of concentrated force, which I can use to push away my opponents for example.’

‘I had no idea that witcher also use spells…’

‘Call them spells in front of any mage and you will hear a very long and very boring tirade explaining why exactly you are wrong. I know the signs are a far cry from some real spells, but we still find them to be very helpful.’

‘There are others, right? I saw you casting at the castle…’

‘True. Quen for example, the barrier I used to deflect the bolts. Maybe I will get the chance to show you the rest someday. Without using you for the demonstration’ the witcher stood up and once again reached out to her. This time, she allowed him to pull her to her feet.

‘I think, I should consider it a compliment. Surprise a witcher enough to force him to act on instinct rather than keep toying with me? That some good reason for boasting if you ask me’ Neve returned to the spot where the sign knocked the sword from her grasp, picking the weapon and putting it back in the sheath.

‘Am I this transparent to you?’ Geralt asked, following her.

‘As you so hopefully pointed out, you are a witcher. I can be fast and I can be agile, but I will never have your reaction time. And I saw the way you moved, when you thought I wasn’t here. Still, it was a great duel’ she turned and extended her hand to him.

‘I agree’ the witcher bowed his head to her and shook the offered hand. ‘And I really wouldn’t want to stand against you in an actual fight. You play dirty.’

Neve snorted.

‘And I am more than fine with that… What now? Are we going back for breakfast? It would do us some good to cover some miles, before the dusk.

‘Are you in a hurry for some reason?’

‘Me? Hardly’ she turned back towards the camp. ‘You are, though.’


	5. Chapter 5

V

Neve laid stretched across the bed, staring at the dusty ceiling. The usual evening sounds, composed mostly from the chirping of the crickets seeped into the room they rented through the open window. The sound was starting to get annoying at this point, but she at least knew now, that the winter will not return.

Geralt however, assured her that he will be back before the dusk. And it was at least two hours now since the night settled fully over the village. She was starting to regret that she so easily agreed, when he told her to stay at the inn and wait for him. The lack of activity was starting to make her restless.

And to think, that the contract for the drowners happened so soon after she killed her first one. She was still miffed with the kind of money Geralt was offered for completing the task, but when he said that he would go hungry if he turned his nose on such jobs, she decide against pursuing the topic.

Still. She was surprised to learn that drowners were paid for by the head, just like rabbits or pheasants, though it was obvious that the monsters had nothing in common with any of these creatures.

She was really starting to miss her regular jobs. Bandits, protecting some merchants during their travels, bringing home a nobleman’s daughter who fell in love with the stable hand. All of this seemed to be a child’s play compared to what she was witnessing now.

She sat up as soon as she heard the sound of the steps. Moments later, Geralt opened the door and entered the room, clearly limping.

‘What happened?’ she pushed herself off the bed, coming to stand next to him. She grabbed him by the shoulder, when he fell heavily against the wall. The blood-soaked cloth tied around his leg was so dark, that she hadn’t noticed it at first.

‘Nothing serious really’ the witcher assured, but he still grimaced, when she walked him over to the single chair in the room. ‘I got briefly distracted and one of them scratched me…’

Neve shook her head and helped him to sit down.

‘Allow me to take a look at that scratch then.’

‘I know how to handle things like this myself…’

‘Maybe, but the point is, that you don’t have to now. So strip and let someone, who actually knows how those things are done, to see to your injury’ she turned on her heel and went to the corner where she deposited her luggage before.

She heard a telling sight, followed by a rustle of removed clothing and a wet slap of a bloodied cloth hitting the floor. The candle sitting on the table threw a circle of bright, yellow light over him.

‘Geralt, those are teeth marks’ she remarked, turning towards him, her chest in her hands.

‘Drowners, as you can imagine, have quite a lot of them.’

‘I’ve seen that with my own two eyes’ she crouched next to him, pulling a piece of cloth from the chest and soaking it in one of her concoctions. She could feel how his muscle spasmed, when she put it to the injury, but the witcher made no sound. ‘How did you allow it to get a bite?’

‘There was ten of them. And it’s difficult to pay attention to all of them at once when you are attacked form every possible angle’ Geralt explained, shrugging. ‘One of them managed to get behind me and sink the teeth in, before I chopped of its head.’

‘And you had to do it while it still held your leg in its jaws?’

‘What was I supposed to do? Ask it nicely to let me go first?’

She looked at him, a frown etched deeply into her face. For his current predicament, Geralt appeared to be awfully pleased with himself.

‘Injuries form teeth usually don’t heal well…’

‘I know a thing or two about that.’

‘No doubts about it’ Neve agreed, reaching for another bottle. ‘I am also quite sure that your wounds don’t get infected easily, but when you have a healer at hand, it would be wise to listen, instead of pissing her off. I am well aware that you are likely an expert in your job. If you wasn’t, something would have eaten you a long time ago. I am, however, only getting familiar with the monster hunting business for about a month… Only the skin and muscle were damaged, by the looks of it, but I would still recommend to stitch the deepest wounds.’

‘There is no need. We need to get back on the road and as soon as I mount the horse with a freshly stitched leg everything will tear up again.’

‘The scar will be ugly…’

‘A perfect match to this one then’ the witcher mused, pointing to his other leg, where the similar mark was etched a few inches higher. ‘And this is not anything permanent. I’ll drink a Swallow once you are done and I’ll be as good as new in a few days.’

‘As you wish’ Neve pressed a piece of cloth, covered with familiar green paste to the wound and reached for a roll of bandage. ‘But I want you to allow this leg to rest for at least a couple of hours before we leave this place.’

Geralt made a face that told her he was once again thinking her unreasonable. She had to ignore the deep desire to just slap his injured leg to get her point across.

‘The money aren’t going to just materialize in this room and the heads in the shed will start to stink as soon as the sun will be up. I don’t think that the innkeeper would appreciate that.’

‘I can agree with you on that, so allow me to go to the reeve by myself. Lets’ see if people really hate bantering with the witchers that much or if you just don’t know how to do it.’

‘You are not a witcher...’

‘No, but I was there with you the first time so to them, I might as well be. And I bet that the reeve won’t pay me less that he would pay you.’

‘We’ll see’ the witcher smirked. ‘If anything, it would be a great lesson for you about the nature of our trade.’

Neve pursed her lips, standing up and pulling her hair over her shoulder.

‘Maybe. Maybe not’ it was her turn to shrug, nodding towards the corner of the room. ‘I brought the water earlier if you wish to use some. Though it is probably cold by now… I’m going to sleep. I much prefer a nice, thick pallet then the cold, hard ground.’

‘I think, that you might have picked the wrong travelling companion then.’

‘You think way too much, witcher’ she retorted, grinning at the ceiling.

‘Good night Neve’ Geralt replied, the shadow of a smile clear in his voice.


	6. Chapter 6

VI

Vielebor, the reeve of Alders Grove scratched the bald spot on the top of his head, looking between her and the sack she carried, blackened with dried blood.

‘So you said that where was the witcher now?’

‘Standing right in front of you’ Neve said, pointing to the medallion, shaped like a wolf’s head, hanging from her belt. ‘And waiting to be paid…’

‘You don’t carry the swords on your back…’

‘It gets drawn just as quickly from the hip’ she interrupted him, wondering if there was really no one smarter to take the job in the entire village. On the other hand, brains were never a necessary thing to have for a politician.

She went to the reeve’s house just after the dawn, as soon as the sun peeked from behind the line of the low hills surrounding the village from the east. Despite the early hour, a lot of people were already milling about in the farmyards and the air was filled with clucking, mooing and squealing of the living inventory. Before she reached the house however, Neve managed to gather quite a bit of interest, mostly form the curious children and a couple of dogs, lured in by the scent of blood.

The kids disappeared as soon as Vielebor exited the house. Dogs were another matter entirely, but a well-aimed rock at least kept them away.

Neve just hoped, that Geralt wasn’t going to be too angry about the medallion.

‘There was a man with you before. White-haired…’

‘And he still is, though he is sleeping at the inn right now. I am pretty sure that we will manage to handle the matter of payment between the two of us…’

Vielebor huffed, eyeing the sack again. Neve momentarily played with thought that Nilfgaardian invasion into the Northern Kingdoms might not have been such a disaster after all. Maybe it was a chance to tear out the deeply rooted backwardness that filled places like this. After all the only difference between her and any man was the curve of the hips and the cleavage. And both these things were currently almost completely obscured by the chainmail and the leather armor she wore.

She allowed a bitter smile to bloom on her lips. Prejudice always held well, especially amongst the people who feared even the smallest change.

‘You have the medallion’ the reeve nodded. ‘And the trophies?’

Neve’s smile widened as she turned the sack upside down. The heads rolled over the ground.

Someone squealed loudly. From behind the row of barrels standing near the house, sprang the last few, bravest kids. One of the heads landed directly in front of them.

Vielebor also watched the heads, baring teeth from below the cloudy, yellow eyes, with disgust.

‘All ten of them’ she announced. ‘We also burned the place where they lived. That would be thirty crowns per drowner.’

She could swear, she saw the exact moment when he started sweating.

‘Well… You see… That might be a bit of an issue…’

Neve’s mouth formed a thin line. It always started like this. At least he didn’t just tell her to go to hell. For someone, who didn’t see her as a person worthy of doing business with him, the reeve seemed to be curiously helpless right now.

‘Really?’ she asked, resting her hands on her hips. ‘This is exactly what you have written in the notice.

‘Yes, but…’ Vielebor scratched his head again. ‘I didn’t think that there will be so many of them.’

‘Then you should have called for a witcher earlier, instead of waiting for them to get bold enough to start coming to the village…’

‘You are forgetting yourself…’

Neve wasn’t intimidated by the reeve’s threatening tone. He was fat and a head shorter than her and she spent most of her life surrounded by people that were much more dangerous than he could ever hope to be. She only wondered if he realized that she could have his guts strewn across the ground with one, well-aimed strike.

And she wouldn’t be bothered in the slightest.

‘Are you trying to tell me that I am not right? How many women never came home after they went to the river to do laundry? How many kids didn’t return after going fishing? The drowners are like rats. Where one of them is, you can be certain that more will soon appear.’

Vielebor made a face of someone who knew, he was in trouble and wiped his forehead with his forearm.

‘Tell me how much you can give me?’

‘Fifteen…?’ the reeve asked carefully, trying not to appear desperate.

Neve shook his head.

‘For fifteen you can go and hunt drowners yourself… You will give twenty-five and I will forget that I am supposed to demand payment for destroying their nest as well.’

Vielebor gawked at her.

‘You would do that?’

‘Of course. Witchers don’t work for free. But I know that the village budget might be tight this early in the year, so I am offering you a way to save fifty crowns instead of paying additional hundred.’

‘When my father was a reeve, witchers weren’t driving such a hard bargain…’ Vielebor muttered, though she knew that he already agreed.

‘When your father was a reeve, many things were simpler than they are now. World however is constantly moving forward. And the witchers are growing rare, while monsters are still abundant. Don’t be surprised then that we want to be pay honestly for our job. Now, go get the money and let us be done with this. Do you wish to keep the trophies?’

‘And what would I do with those disgusting things? There is a hole filled with manure behind the barn. Threw them in there and I will be right back with your payment.

‘Just don’t cut the money too much’ she said, putting the first head back into the sack. ‘I will check.’

Neve ignored the muttered, angry comment directed at her. She picked the rest of the heads and threw the sack into the manure. When she came back, the reeve was already waiting for her with a coin purse in hand. She couldn’t deny herself the pleasure of counting the money right in front of him. Once she made sure that everything was in order, she thanked him with a shallow bow of her head and left the farm.

She heard him spitting onto the ground as soon as she turned her back to him.

Neve didn’t hurry straight back to the inn. The day came about pleasant and surprisingly warm, and she was long since fed up with constant rain and waking up freezing due to ground frost.

If she hadn’t stopped once in a while to observe something or smile at the children running by, she probably wouldn’t have noticed that she was being followed.

He was good, that much she had to admit. He disappeared from her view as soon as she was a little too obvious in glancing over her shoulder. She never saw him for more than just few seconds. The only clear thing about her tail were the swords, carried on his back.

Had Geralt decided to track her down after all? She wasn’t particularly quiet this morning, so he likely knew exactly when she left.

She slowed down even more. So far, she was under the impression that they got to know each other well enough for him not to feel a certain need to constantly observe her. If anything she will get the chance to call him out on it soon.

She went in the direction of a few stalls, crammed into the main square. The witcher, as she expected, followed her, clinging to the shadows thrown by the buildings standing along the road. Once they will be out in the open, he will have to either leave her be or confront her.

Neve quickly realized which option he had chosen. She waited for a second longer, bowing over some jewelry put out by one of the merchants and then wheeled to face him, if only to let him know that she knew he was observing her the entire time.

The man she was staring at looked nothing like Geralt.

She allowed herself a single, panicked moment of shock and then she chose the safest way to avoid trouble.

She bolted.

Neve jumped over the cart filled with potatoes and sprinted down the road, followed by a scream and curses of the peasant whose supplies were now rolling through the mud.

She knew that running straight ahead will not help her much. She kept the direction though, until she saw an opened gate. She burst into the yard, scattering the flock of geese. Someone threw an angry insult after her. Dogs started barking.

The door to the barn were ajar. She fell inside, all too happy to see that the bigger gate, leading to the fields behind the farm was also open. Behind the stretch of a freshly plowed land, the forest raised. And no witcher will be able to catch her in the woods.

She sped forward, right across the field.

She barely crossed the threshold, when she felt the familiar tug. Instead of waiting for the Aard to slam her into the ground, she fell and rolled, softening the blow. It was still hard enough to steal her breath for a moment, but at least she had a chance to reach for her sword.

She wasn’t naïve. She knew that she stood no chance against a witcher. Life however taught her early to never go down without a fight. So, instead of running, she struck.

She heard the hiss of a blade being drawn.

The witcher blocked her strike easily and spun, slapping her across the back with the flat side of his sword. As if he was playing with a child who was just starting to learn how to handle weapons.

Neve could feel her rising irritation.

Then it happened again. And again. When she finally found a way to close the distance and reach for her knife, hoping to exploit some weakness in his armor, all she managed to get in return was a kick in the hip.

She ignored the pain, allowing the fall to carry her away and rolled across the mud. She raised just in time to deflect the attack coming for her head.

But she couldn’t protect herself from the second Aard.

At least this time she didn’t drop her weapon.

She stopped only when she smashed into the wall of the barn. Before she could as much as twitch she felt the blade, cold and very sharp, pressed just below her chin.

Neve looked up along the arm that was pressing the cold steel to her throat and didn’t fight off the smile.

‘Well, well… Another witcher. I should consider myself lucky.’

This one was visibly older than Geralt, or at least he appeared so. His hair were grey, not white. But his cat-like eyes were sharp and attentive. And more than a little suspicious.

On the weather-worn leather of his chest plate, laid the wolf-head medallion, baring its teeth.

‘Drop your sword’ he commanded, his voice raspy. ‘And your knife.’

Neve knew that there was an end to every fight. And that there were moments when any further arguing wasn’t going to end well. She obediently let go of her weapons and kicked them towards the witcher. He only lowered his sword when her own was pressed to the ground by his foot.

‘You are good, I have to give you that’ he admitted. ‘But you are the first woman I see impersonating a witcher… Who are you? And where did you get the medallion from?

‘A woman of various trades… Excuse me?’ she took a moment to handle her own surprise, before she laughed. ‘Impersonating? I beg your pardon; I have my own shit to deal with and I don’t need to pretend to be a witcher on top of that. I just happened to be doing some business for a friend and I simply needed his medallion. I am planning to deliver it right back to the owner.’

The witcher appeared to be slightly perplexed by her words. He looked at her for a long while, as if trying to determine whether or not she was lying.

He was, obviously, a great judge of character.

‘And what’s that friend’s name?’

‘Geralt’ she replied. A lie right now wouldn’t further her cause.

And the name, apparently, has rang some bells. The witcher sheathed his sword and grabbed her by the shoulder, pulling her closer to him. Then he picked up her weapons.

‘Lead the way then’ he commanded. ‘We’ll see, if you are telling the truth.’


	7. Chapter 7

VII

When they entered the inn, Geralt was sitting in the common room, shoveling scrambled eggs and fresh bread into his mouth. She wasn’t surprised when she saw the look on his face – he likely didn’t expect her to come from the meeting with the reeve with tangled hair and covered in dirt.

However, the bright smile blooming on his face at the sight of the other witcher, was a little strange. Neve didn’t even think him capable of smiling like that.

Before she could say anything, the hand on her shoulder squeezed and pushed her forward. Geralt watched this in confusion, but he still stood up and shook the older witcher’s hand. Right before the two all but fell into each other’s arms.

Neve brushed her tangled hair off her forehead and crossed her arms over her chest. It was quite obvious that the two knew each other well.

‘Now that we got past these tearful greetings’ she said, looking at Geralt. ‘Would you introduce me? I would like to get my weapons back and finally explain this farce…’

Geralt looked between herself and his friend. Then he sighed and sat behind the table again.

‘And can you, I don’t know, explain to me first, what had actually happened?’

The second witcher sat across from Geralt. Neve, still irritated, remained standing over them. The man reached into his pouch, took out the medallion and placed it on the table between them.

‘I saw her, when she bantered for a payment for a pack of drowners. Imagine my surprise, when I also realized, that she flaunts our sign as well. I had to see why she had it. But, instead of answering some questions, your companion decided to ran away,’

‘When someone follows you, you don’t exactly expect to have a friendly chit-chat with that person’ Neve grumbled, giving them an annoyed glare. ‘At first I thought it was you, trying to check on me. When I realized that I was wrong, escape seemed as good an option as any. Unfortunately, I don’t stand a chance against a witcher, just as I expected… Here are your money’ she pulled a pouch off her belt and placed it on the table with an audible clink.

‘My apologies, but I’m not sure if I follow…’

At the same moment the serving girl appeared, placing two bowls of steaming, scrambled eggs on the table. Neve realized, how hungry she actually was and took the spot beside Geralt, sitting down with her breakfast.

‘Allow me to explain’ said the white-haired witcher. ‘But first, some introductions are in order… Neve, this is Vesemir, a witcher from the School of a Wolf and my mentor. He taught me everything I know. Vesemir, this is Neve, a mercenary and a talented healer I met in Ellander. We are travelling together for the time being.

Vesemir looked her over once again, sighed and then put her weapons on the table.

‘So how did it happen that she went to collect the payment for a job and not you?’

Geralt lowered his eyes and Neve barely stopped herself from smiling. In this moment, he looked more like a scolded child to her than a grown up man.

‘I was told to rest my injured leg, at least until we depart. Neve is still grasping the concept of our potions and metabolism. And she keeps insisting that I should demand a better coin for my work… So we agreed to a small test – Geralt turned to give her his attention. ‘How much you were able to get?’

‘Two hundred and fifty…’ she muttered, swallowing the spoonful of the scrambled eggs and taking a bit of the bread. ‘Given, the reeve is an idiot, but… Hey, girl!’ she called. Bring us some beer!’

She might not be able to survive this conversation without some.

‘For ten drowners?’ asked Geralt. ‘I thought he won’t pay more than one hundred and fifty.’

‘Vielebor, our good reeve, likely thought the same’ when the girl returned with three tankards of beer, Neve reached into her pouch and handed her a few crowns. ‘I have explained to him an error in his ways. You should be glad. And you should give me the chance to argue for your money more often.’

‘Maybe I should’ the witcher agreed, taking the sip of his beer. ‘Did you really give Vesemir a run through the village?’

‘She ran like she was escaping from a striga’ said the older witcher, glancing at her. ‘But I admit, that you surprised me, when you defended yourself against the Aard. How did you know what to do?’

‘I’m a quick learner’ she replied, looking into her tankard. ‘Let’s just say that Geralt already had the chance to demonstrate it to me…’

‘So, how did the two of you met, exactly?’

‘Geralt doesn’t know how to lie. I got him out of the prison, stepping over few toes in the process and here we are… Oh and we are looking for his sorceress.

Vesemir looked between the two of them, made himself more comfortable on the bench and then drank deeply. Neve thought that for a moment, she saw him smiling.

‘Which one of his sorceresses we are talking about right now?’

Geralt sighed heavily. Neve snorted into her mug.

‘You didn’t mention that sleeping with sorceresses is your favorite past time…’

The witcher looked as if he wanted to say something to that, but Vesemir’s expression kept him quiet.

‘Unfortunately’ the older man shook his head, improving Neve’s mood even further. ‘This whole story sounds too promising to go over it quickly, so maybe you will just start from the beginning?’

‘We will run out of beer’ she smiled, taking another sip of her drink. ‘And time…’

‘Do you have places to be?’

‘Yennefer was allegedly sighted in Vorune’ Geralt explained. ‘The trail is fresh, so we want to get there as soon as possible. Maybe this time we won’t miss her.

‘Knowing Yennefer and your luck, she is not even there anymore’ Vesemir muttered. ‘But maybe we will at least find out where she went.’

‘Does it mean that you are going to join us?’

‘Well I heard some rumors about a beast prowling that area. And I could use a decent contract to start the year well… Besides, I would really like to know, how to get two hundred and fifty crowns for a pack of drowners…’

Neve gave him a broad grin, cleaning her bowl with a piece of bread.

‘And I am ready to share that knowledge, but before it happens’ she stood up and picked her weapons from the table. ‘I’ll give you a moment in private, gentlemen. I need to dust myself off before we leave. And gather up my shredded pride.’

‘The horses are ready for the road…’ Geralt called after her. 

‘And I’ll be too, in just a moment’ she waved him off. ‘I don’t spend half a day in front of the mirror like sorceresses…’

Somehow Geralt knew, that Neve was just beginning her investigation into the topic of sorceresses. And that she won’t give up easily.


End file.
